


The Final Days of the Stock Pot Inn

by chatoyance



Category: The Legend of Zelda, The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:52:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chatoyance/pseuds/chatoyance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can do it,” Link said, and the two women turned to look at him. He hopped off the boxes, folding the blanket and placing it on top of the pillow, “I can help out and do odd jobs around the inn for you. I'm a good worker, and it seems to me like you need a little bit of help around here because the inn’s so full.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Final Days of the Stock Pot Inn

**Author's Note:**

> When I played Majora's Mask as a kid, there would be times where I'd by playing the game and would just have Link spend the entire three days running around the Stock Pot Inn. I pretended he was doing errands and chores, and basically working there. And now, many years later, I decided to write a thing about that.

The boy and his horse wearily trudged through the tall grasses of the field, the sun sinking lower on the horizon with each step. The child walked alongside the animal, offering her respite from the burden of his weight, his boots dragging along the dirt resignedly and the reins dangling loosely from his chubby young hands.  He looked up, squinting at the structure in the distance. Through the early morning haze, he saw what appeared to be a walled town in the middle of the vast field. He spied thatched roof houses peeking over the sturdy stone walls, with brightly coloured flags wafting lazily in the breeze, and raised higher still was a great stone clock tower with a vibrantly painted face.

However, it was what the boy saw above the tower that caused him to grip the reins in his hands tighter, staring wide-eyed at the sky. The moon was large; so large in fact that it took up at least twice the amount of sky that it had in Hyrule, and he swore he could see a face on the moon’s surface when he squinted his eyes at it. A terrifying toothy grin and deep, sunken eyes stared down at him, and he shivered.

Where was he?

It was getting darker, and he wasn’t too keen on finding out what monsters lurked in the shadows after dark in this strange new country, so he hoisted himself upon his horse and spurred her into an easy canter. The few rupees he had in his wallet jingled in time with his horse’s gait, his shield clanging against the hilt of his sword. The horse’s breath came out in loud puffs, the warm air mixing with the cold air around them and visibly dissipating, and by the time he reached the gates of the town, the sun had disappeared completely, leaving the field cloaked in darkness.

The gates were lit by torches, and the boy could see a guard leaning against the wall casually. The man straightened up when he spied the approaching horse, tapping his spear on the ground. “What business do you have in Clock Town at this time of night, boy?”

The boy explained that he needed a place to stay for the night, and that he was a traveler from a distant land, and then the guard cleared his throat and leaned down a little closer to the boy. When he spoke again, his voice softer, and upon noticing that the man was smiling very faintly, the child felt less anxious.

“We don’t get a lot of travellers from outside of Termina,” the guard said, “What’s your name?”

“Link,” the boy said.

“Well, Link, I suggest you take up lodging at the Stock Pot Inn. It’s right through this gate, the building by the far wall with the great bell on its rooftop. You can’t miss it.” The guard tapped the stone tiles on the ground with the butt of his spear, and there was a series of mechanical clicks and scrapes from somewhere behind the wall. After a moment of silence, the barred gate began to rise, and the guard stepped aside to let Link and his horse through before the gate dropped noisily to the ground again.

Stock Pot Inn, Stock Pot Inn... Ah. The guard was correct; it _was_ hard to miss. There was indeed a large clay bell on the top level of the building, and a sign to the right of the door with a cheerfully painted moon (very different from the unsettling moon he had seen in the sky, Link noted, a shiver making its way down his back at the memory) and the name of the inn boldly printed next to it. He hitched the horse to the post near the entrance, offering her a carrot before he opened the door to the inn and stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was how very _warm_ it was inside the inn. After days travelling through the forest and sleeping on the wet ground, covered in pine needles and an old blanket from his house, he welcomed the idea of a night in a warm inn with open arms. The woman at the front desk looked up from the book she had been reading, nodding toward the dirty boy with the green tunic as she marked her place and put the book down on the desk. She had short, dark red hair and kind eyes, but with a hint of sadness that Link wasn’t able to ignore.

“Welcome to the Stock Pot Inn,” she said, but after a moment, her face grew anxious, “You’re—You’re not here to rent a room, are you?”

The boy nodded, “Yes. That’s what an Inn is for, is it not?”

The young woman made a sound that could be described as halfway between a squeak and a wail, “You want to stay the night? I’m terribly sorry, but we have no vacancies at the moment. We’ve been booked with reservations for weeks; it’s always like that before the carnival. I recommend making a reservation the next time you wish to stay. I am so sorry.”

It was as if someone had taken a pin and burst Link’s heart, his entire body slumping in disappointment. “Surely—surely there’s _somewhere_ I can stay?  Please, ma’am. I’ve been sleeping inside logs and on top of pine needles for days, and I need somewhere to stay!” He pulled his wallet out from under his shield and took his last fifteen rupees out, laying them across the desk, “This is enough, isn’t it?”

The woman’s eyebrows creased in the middle with anxiety, and she shook her head. When she spoke, her voice broke was very quiet, “I’m sorry, we have no rooms, and that... wouldn’t have been enough to pay for the night, either. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Please?” the boy pleaded, and the woman looked down at him with a pained expression, as if she had suddenly been reminded of something. She sighed, and then leaned forward across the desk to look down the hallway, as if she were checking whether someone was listening to their conversation. She looked back down at him and beckoned with her index finger.

“Come with me, and be quiet.” The woman lifted a hinged part of the desk, allowing Link to duck underneath and join her on the opposite side. She led him through a darkened hallway, and into what appeared to be a kitchen. The room was even warmer than the lobby had been, a stove glowing in the corner with a large red pot on top, something steaming inside and filling the room with a distinct aroma, earthy and comforting. There were boxes and barrels stacked in the corners of the room, and a shallow trough of water that drained outside, containing a few fish, presumably for consumption.

The woman had her back turned to him, busying herself with something inside one of the cabinets near the stove, “We don’t have any rooms left, but you can stay in here for the night if my mother doesn’t see you.”

She handed him a wool blanket, sighing, “I’m sorry there’s no bed, so you’ll have to sleep on the floor...”

Link chuckled, “I’ve been sleeping in dirt for a while m’am, the floor is a king’s bed to me.”

She smiled at him, handing him a cucco-down filled pillow, “The doors open again at 8 o’clock, but I’ll come down here earlier to wake you up. My mother would be furious with me if she found out I let you stay the night, and she wakes early in the morning. And if you get hungry, there’s a loaf of bread and some apples in the cupboard near the stove. You’ll be alright, won’t you?”

“Ma’am, this is perfect. Thank you.” Link opened up his wallet, “It’s not much, but it’s all I have right now.” The woman shook her head and pushed his hand lightly back toward him.

“It’s alright, I couldn’t make you pay for _this_. You may need those rupees anyway. Just don’t tell my mother that I let you stay for free,” she said, winking.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Link said, returning the wink, “I have to ask, what is your name?”

“Anju.”

“Good night, Miss Anju.”

Link  was left in the dark kitchen, the sound of the fire crackling in his ears, and he pulled the blanket up to his chin and smiled, content for the first time in days. He slept soundly, not waking , until he distantly heard the crowing of a cucco, and he grimaced and turned over, his back to the room. Moments later, he felt something nudging his shoulder, and he brushed it away sleepily. Then he felt it again, and opened his eyes to see a large red haired woman staring down at him, her shoe still prodding his shoulder.

“Who are you?” she huffed, her hands at her hips. The large woman wore a frown so long it nearly dipped into her chin, and her eyebrows were knit together so closely, it almost looked as if she had only one. For a moment, in his groggy state, Link thought she was a monster, and his heart pounded in his ears until his mind caught up with him. It was then he realized that he was looking at the mother that Anju had mentioned the previous evening, and not a monster at all.

She stepped back to allow Link to sit up, and he grinned nervously up at her, “Hi.”

“Again, I say: Who are you?”

At that moment, Anju came tearing into the room, taking hold of the doorframe to stop herself from running headlong into her mother’s back. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, flustered, “Mother, you’re up earlier than I expected!”

“Anju, do you know anything about this little urchin?” her mother asked her, gesturing toward Link, who was sitting up on top of a few boxes he had stacked together as a makeshift bed. He looked embarrassed, pulling the blanket up to his chin and looking to Anju apologetically.

“Yes, mother. He—he came by last night as I was closing up the inn, and he had nowhere to go, so I thought—“

“You thought you’d let him stay the night in the kitchen?”

“Well, yes.”

Anju’s mother let out a deep sigh, her eyes closed. She reached up with one meaty hand to rub at her eyes, her thumb massaging the closed eyelids, “Did you at least charge the boy?”

“He—well, he doesn’t have a lot of money. I thought I would—“

“Anju, we can’t _afford_ to let people stay here without paying. Especially during carnival season...”

“Mother, I—“

“He’ll need to pay off his debt.”

“Mother, it wasn’t even really a room...”

“I can do it,” Link said, and the two women turned to look at him. He hopped off the boxes, folding the blanket and placing it on top of the pillow, “I can help out and do odd jobs around the inn for you. I’m a good worker, and it seems to me like you need a little bit of help around here because the inn’s so full.”

“If you work for the day, your debt is repaid,” Anju’s mother offered her hand to the boy, and he took it and shook it enthusiastically, “You’ll be helping Anju with the front desk, and do anything she asks you to do. When the clock tower strikes 8:30 this evening, your shift will be over, and you’ll have to find somewhere else to stay for the night, are we clear?”

“I understand, ma’am.”

“Good boy. Now, Anju, take our young friend to the front desk and unlock the front doors. I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” she said, leaving the room and walking down the hallway, her shoes creaking on the wood floor as she walked.

“I’m sorry, she got up earlier than I expected,” Anju said, making herself busy with the blanket and the pillow, stowing them in the cabinet where she had plucked them from the night before, “Are you really okay with staying to help today? Won’t your mother be worried?”

“Oh, I don’t have a mother.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Anju said, looking down, pausing with her hands on the cabinet doors.

“It’s alright. I can stay today, I don’t really have anywhere I need to be, and I need to repay you for your kindness, Miss Anju.”

“I never asked before, but what is _your_ name?” Anju asked, shutting the cabinet and turning to face him.

“My name is Link.”

Anju told Link that the first thing she needed him to do was to go up to the top of the building to ring the large clay bell on the roof. This would wake up the tenants, she explained, so that they could start their day. Link, eager to demonstrate just how well he could do a job, began to run up the stairs to the second floor. However, the young boy wasn’t looking where he was going, and ran headfirst into something squishy, yet firm. The thing in question was, in fact, a person, but she had not fallen when Link ran into her. However, Link had tumbled two steps downward, and he stood up, rubbing the shoulder he had bumped against the wall.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. You see, I’m new around here and I’m doing some work for—“

The girl held up her hand, “Save it, kid. It’s alright.”

The girl was lanky and tall, with thin arms and legs, but she was also muscular, as if she spent a lot of time doing physical activities. Her hair was pulled up in a tight bun, her arms and legs exposed by the body suit she was wearing, and she wore interesting and almost outlandish make-up. Link apologized again, and introduced himself. In turn, she introduced herself as Marilla, and then excused herself and walked away, muttering something about dancing and spinning.

Link reached the top of the stairs and unlocked the door, stepping out into the sunlight. The clock town looked very different during the day, the quiet of the night replaced with the sounds of horse hooves on stone and hammers on wood. In another section of the town, Link could see a tower, half constructed, with workers banging at the wood with large blunt hammers and carrying planks from one place to another. He saw a pair of jugglers in the courtyard just below the inn, under a colourful banner, watched by the guard who had let him into the town the night before. Finally, he saw—the moon? Sure enough, there it was, looming over the town in the bright of day, that unnatural face more defined and horrifying than it had been the night before. Link looked away from it. What a strange country this was.

He picked up the large hammer that was placed next to the bell, and swung it with all of his strength. The sound of the bell rung out over the town, and once Link regained the feeling in his arms, he struck it again. He struck it a third time, as instructed, and put the hammer down, massaging his hands. He could feel the shock from hitting the bell ringing in his bones, and he had to wait a few minutes before his hands stopped hurting and he could open the door again.

When he opened the door, he saw the girl again, and said, “Hello, Marilla,” with a nod.

The girl looked at him strangely, cocking her head to the side, “... my name is Judo. Marilla is my sister.”

Link turned away to hide the way his cheeks flushed, apologizing.

When he returned to the front desk, he noticed Anju speaking to a man in a red hat, a letter in her hand. The man tipped his hat, and jogged out the door, leaving Anju clutching the letter to her chest. Link came by and leaned against the edge of the front desk.

“Is that a letter?” he asked, and Anju nodded slowly.

“It’s a letter from Kafei,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears.

“... Who is Kafei?” Link asked, growing nervous when he saw her tears – he hated it when ladies cried.

Anju sighed, putting the letter down on the desk, “Well, Kafei was to be my husband, but he disappeared a month ago and nobody has been able to find him.”

“That is sad,” Link said, “I’m sorry. Does the letter give you any idea where he is?”

“I’m afraid not, it only says that he loves me, but I should stop looking for him,” she said, choking back a sob, and Link patted her hand lightly. It just seemed like the right thing to do. “Sorry, I’m getting—Ah, excuse me, I have to get my grandmother her lunch.” Anju stood up and made her way toward the kitchen, “I’m going to need your help, Link.”

Link was a little bit jarred by the sudden change of subject, but he nodded and ducked underneath the front desk to come up on the other side, trotting behind Anju on her way to the kitchen. Anju leaned over the large red pot that was placed over the stove, waving her hand to waft the smell of the stew toward her face. She smiled and took a ladle from where it had been hanging on the wall above the stove. “Could you get me one of those blue bowls from the cupboard? And a loaf of bread?”

Link nodded and took the bowl off the shelf, handing it to Anju. While she scooped the stew into the bowl, Link placed a loaf of bread on the counter and sliced into it. It was difficult, the bread a little tough and the knife a little dull, and he ended up sawing back and forth, spewing crumbs across the cutting board. But he did eventually end up with two halves of a loaf, and placed one half on the tray beside the stew. “Now, I need you to come with me so you can get the door for me.”

The boy nodded again, bounding ahead of her along the hallway. He stopped, “Where is your grandmother’s room, anyway?”

“It’s the one at the end of the hall, here,” Anju said, gesturing toward the hall as best she could while holding a tray of stew and bread.

Link opened the door, holding it for Anju as she entered. “Good afternoon, Grandmother. I have your lunch for you.”

“Tortus? Is that you?”

“No, Grandmama. Tortus was my father. It’s me, your granddaughter, Anju.” Anju spoke slow and loud, dragging out each syllable so that her grandmother would be sure to understand.

“I have already had my lunch, Tortus. You may go now.”

“Grandmother, my father, Tortus, is dead. I’m his daughter.”

“Tortus, I told you, I have eaten my lunch!”

Anju sighed, “I am leaving your lunch here on the table, okay Grandmama? You can eat it when you get hungry, and if it’s too cold by then, please let me know and I’ll make you a new bowl, alright?”

“Close the door on your way out, Tortus, it’s chilly out there.”

“Link, please make sure she eats something,” Anju whispered to Link, low so that her grandmother would not hear. She walked out the door and back down the hall, leaving Link in the dark room with her grandmother. Anju’s grandmother was thin, with a long hooked nose and beady eyes, her long face framed by long, thin grey hairs. In the flickering light of the fire, she looked as if she was smirking.

“Would you like to hear a story, Tortus?”

“I’m not Tortus either, madam. I’m Link, and—“ Link paused for a moment, thinking. He then grinned at the old woman, “I’ll listen to a story if you promise to eat your soup.”

“You drive a hard bargain, young man,” the old woman said, wheeling her chair over to the table and picking up the tray, “I’ll eat half of it.”

“You have a deal,” Link said, settling down on the carpeted floor, crossing his legs and looking up at the old woman in the wheelchair. She sipped at the soup and made a face, taking a few more spoonfuls before setting down her spoon in the bowl and beginning her story.

“Each year, the season of harmony begins when the sun and the moon are in alignment...”

Link listened to the story, but it turned out to be much, much longer than he had expected. After some time, he found himself growing more tired, and nearly nodded off once or twice. Soon, he found himself dozing, and only awakened when he heard Anju’s mother calling for her from the front door. He stood up, still a little groggy, and found Granny had also fallen asleep, the soup neatly balancing on her lap. Link removed the tray, carrying it to the kitchen, when he heard the voice of Anju’s mother again.

He glanced out the window, and noticed that the sun was going down, and he frowned. Where was he going to sleep tonight? Surely, Anju’s mother would not allow him to sleep in the kitchen again, and he didn’t want to spend another night outside...

Link had finished cleaning up Granny’s stone cold soup, and made his way back to the front desk, where Anju was speaking with her mother.

“Oh Link, there you are. I have good news: your debt is completely repaid!” Anju said, clapping her hands together. Her mother still stared at him with hard eyes, but smiled halfway.

“Thank you. I liked working for you, Anju,” the boy said, and felt a little bit of warmness creep over his cheeks, “Is—is there a place for me to stay tonight?”

“You still want to stay?”

When Link nodded, the two women shared a glance. Anju was the one to speak, “Well, a patron did check out this afternoon, and the knife chamber is empty at the moment. But that room is about fifty rupees per night...”

“Can I stay if I keep working for you?”

“Well, I suppose so?” Anju said, but phrased it more as a question to her mother. Her mother looked at the boy for a moment, weighing her options. She then smiled – not a half smile, but a full smile; the first one Link had ever seen from her.

“We’d be happy to have you, young man.”

The knife chamber was a large, comfortable room with two beds, a fireplace, and a table and chairs in the middle, and the moment Link saw it, his eyes lit up and he smiled widely. He had never had such a nice room all to himself – he was used to sleeping in his hollowed out tree-house, which could never house a fire, or out in the wilderness, the sounds of wolfos and skull children haunting him while he slept. He thought it was a highly unusual name for such a cozy room, but Anju explained to him that it used to be the room where they kept the utensils when the Stock Pot Inn used to be the Stock Pot Cafeteria when her father was still alive, and suddenly the name made a little more sense.

He bounced on the bed a little bit, delighted by the springiness of the mattress under his bottom. The bed in his tree house had been made of wood and covered in wolfos furs, and there was no springiness at all. This room was the greatest room he had ever been in, and it was his for _the whole night_. He burrowed underneath the covers; full, warm quilts that made him feel like he was being hugged by the goddesses, and smiled as he drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

It was still dark when he awoke, plagued by a pressure in his lower abdomen, and he sighed, getting up from his bed and slipping his boots on. He felt his way through the hallway and down the stairs to where he was sure the washroom had been, and sure enough, he found it across from the kitchen. He entered and closed the door behind him, and when he turned around, he saw something that made him scream for a half-second before stifling it, not wanting to wake the other patrons.

There, sticking out of the chamber, was a hand; a long, large, discoloured hand with dark liver spots and long yellow fingernails. For a moment, he thought he was having a nightmare, and shook his head violently with his eyes shut, trying to shake away the image, but when he stopped, the hand was still there, and this time it was accompanied by a voice.

“Paper! Please!”

Paper? Link said nothing, shocked.

He reached into his shirt and took out a piece of paper he had written his chores on from the previous day, and he practically threw it toward the hand, backing away from it and swiftly walking up the stairs. He heard a “thanks” from somewhere behind him, but ignored it and crawled back into his bed. It was all probably just a dream.

The next morning he woke with the sun on his face, streaming through the window. He smiled, stretched, and pulled his tunic over his head. Pulling his boots on, he hummed to himself a song from a time he had forgotten. When he was ready, he opened the door and practically bounded downstairs to the front desk.

To his surprise Anju was not there, but instead he was greeted by the stern face of her mother.

“Good morning, Link. You’re going to be working for me this morning,” Anju’s mother said, and Link’s good mood dropped down through his throat and into his stomach.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, trying to appear eager, but mentally, he was groaning in dismay. “What would you like me to do?”

“Well, first I want you to go upstairs and do some sweeping. The circus folk requested that someone come and remove the dust and dirt from the floor, and that’s where you come in, my dear. I’d also like you to make the beds and fluff the pillows.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Link said, and grabbed the broom from its resting place near the door. He climbed the stairs and opened the door to the room next to his, and was greeted by the sound of a musical box and a singing voice.

“Oh, are you here for the sweeping?” the man with the musical box said in a singsong voice, not stopping the music he was playing, “Please, don’t mind me, I need to keep practicing for the performance.”

Link nodded, taking his broom and sweeping the dust away from where it had settled near the floors of the bunks. The music man’s playing lifted his spirits, and he found himself sweeping with the rhythm of the tune – one, two, three, one two three. The door opened, and Judo and Marilla entered the room, nodding at him curtly before they begun dancing along with the tune. They were so graceful, flowing in time with the music as if they were a part of it, and Link hadn’t noticed that he had stopped sweeping. The song ended, the girls stopped dancing, and Link applauded.

“That was amazing!” he said, smiling and leaning against his broom.

“Thank you, kind sir!” the music man said, taking a sweeping bow, the large horns on his music box clanging against one another, “You have just witnessed the talents of the Great Guru Guru and the Amazing Rosa Sisters of the Gorman Troupe. If you liked what you saw, please attend the Gorman Troupe Extravaganza at the Carnival of Time in two days.”

“We’ll be performing for the whole town at the opening ceremonies,” Marilla said, beaming, “We’ve almost got our performance perfect.”

“It looked perfect to me!” Link said, beginning his sweeping once more, “I’d love to see your troupe perform.”

“Please come, we’ll look for you in the crowd!” Judo said, winking at him, and Link suddenly felt very sheepish.

He started sweeping faster; turning the other way so that they wouldn’t see his face changing red, but they had already started another song.

Once he had finished the chores upstairs, Link returned to Anju’s mother at the front desk. She instructed him to take a bag of blankets to the laundry pool and wash them so that the guests would have clean linens for the next day. So Link gathered up the bag and hoisted it onto his horse’s back, lashing it securely to the saddle, and he led her toward the laundry pool on the other side of the clock town. As he walked, he noticed that the moon had become even bigger, taking up nearly half of the sky, and he shivered when he looked at it. Those eyes burned into him, and that grin made him feel scared. He looked back down at the ground as he walked up the stairs to the laundry pool.

When he entered, everything was quiet. The sounds of the construction on the tower were blocked by the high stone walls, and the only sound was the light trickle of water down into the pool of water. He tied his horse’s reins to a post near the water’s edge, and as he did so, he noticed Anju sitting on a bench near the far wall, looking down at the ground. Once he had removed the laundry bag from his horse’s back, he called out to her.

Anju looked up, momentarily startled, and then she quickly wiped her fingers across her eye as if she had been crying, “Hello, Link! I see my mother has you busy this afternoon.”

Link walked up, sitting on the bench beside her, “Yeah, she has a lot of stuff for me to do today.”

Anju was silent, staring down at the ground again, and Link asked softly, “Are you alright, Miss Anju?”

The woman’s head jerked upward, caught off guard by the question, and she stammered lightly, “O-of course? Don’t I seem alright?”

“I have to be honest, Miss Anju, you do not.”

She sighed, giving in, “I’m worried, Link. About Kafei. It just kills me that I don’t know where he is and what he’s doing, and if he is ever coming back.” She paused. “I fear he is never going to come back.”

“I know how it feels to lose someone you really like,” Link said, looking down at the ground too, and kicking his legs out. He knew it all too well. “But I think Kafei will come back.”

Anju smiled at him, “Thank you, Link.”

Link nodded, “If you’ll excuse me, Miss Anju, but I have to get this stuff done before your mother comes down here and goes all stalfos on me.”

“I understand. I’ll wait here for you to finish, and then we can walk back together.”

Link spent most of the afternoon scrubbing and washing and hanging up the inn sheets, but Anju stayed true to her word and waited on the bench for him. Once he was finished, it was almost evening, and it had started raining lightly, so the two walked under Anju’s umbrella, Link’s horse trailing behind them. When they arrived at the inn, it was almost dark, and Anju’s mother relieved Link of his duties and told him he was free to spend the night in the knife chamber again for another day of work tomorrow, and he agreed.

As he settled down into his bed, he thought to himself that he wouldn’t mind staying and working with Anju and her mother for a long time. He had nothing to go back to in Hyrule, not for the time being, anyway, and he could stay here as long as he liked. There was a warm bed, and food, and nice people. He would get to see new and interesting tenants every day, coming in and out of the inn. He would be able to listen to their stories, and play their games. He would like to stay to see the festival as well.

Just as he was drifting off into a content sleep, he heard the slam of a door, and voices on the other side of the wall. Now, he may have been a good boy most of the time, but Link was still not immune to curiosity, and he crept from his bed to the wall on the opposite side of the room, where the knife chamber met the room next door, where Anju and her mother slept.

He was only able to pick up key words here and there, and was able to deduce that they were talking about Kafei. Link almost hated Kafei for the anguish he was causing Miss Anju; she was a nice lady, and she didn’t deserve those feelings of worthlessness and betrayal that were swimming in her heart. He subconsciously balled his hands into fists as he listened, and learned that the two were worried about the moon falling to the earth.

“We’re going to the ranch until this all blows over,” he heard Anju’s mother say, and he hear Anju agree tearfully, suggesting that perhaps Kafei was hiding out there, as well.

“If he is,” he heard Anju’s mother say, “I’m going to give him a smack.”

Link had never agreed with her on anything before, but he agreed with her on this.

They hadn’t spoken for a while, so Link crept back to his own bed, and wondered what he should do if the moon was going to fall. Before he was able to think of a solution, he had fallen asleep.

He woke with a start when his bed began shaking. At first, he thought it was the remnants of a dream, but when he sat up, he realized that it was in fact the whole world that was shaking. In a panic, he leapt from his bed. The tremors stopped almost immediately, and Link stood frozen for several moments before he felt brave enough to move again. He pulled on his boots and tunic and ran down the stairs to where Anju and her mother were talking at the front desk.

“Did you two feel the ground shaking?” Link asked, his eyes wide as saucers and hands out at his sides to steady himself if there were another tremor. The two women nodded sadly.

“We did. They’ve been happening since early this morning, and we fear something terrible is going to happen,” Anju’s mother said, shaking her head. “We’ll be closing up the inn early this afternoon to go to the ranch, it might be safer there. You should go somewhere safe, too.”

“Let me go with you,” Link said, the words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them.

The two women seemed surprised, but Anju spoke up, “You absolutely welcome to come with us, Link. Would you help me pack some things up?”

“Yes m’am,” Link said, nodding, and Anju began giving him instructions on what to pack into the empty crates that were sitting in the kitchen.

They spent the afternoon packing things into the crates -- the remainder of the bread and apples that were in the kitchen, some of Granny’s most important books, a trunk of clothing, and various other odds and ends that Link carefully wrapped in cloth before placing them into the crates. Anju spent a few minutes staring at a mask that she had in her room with tears in her eyes, before she wrapped it in cloth and placed it on the top of her clothing. All the while, the tremors continued, and Link would stare at the cow bobblehead that was on the shelf above the front desk – its head bobbing up and down as if it were nodding vigorously.

Once they had packed everything into the boxes and loaded them onto the wagon, it was dusk. The tremors had become more intense, and the time in between them had decreased. Link looked up to see that the moon was taking up most of the sky, and this time its eyes were a flaming red and its teeth were bared menacingly as it stared down at the world. Perhaps it really was going to crash into the earth. He hoped it would not.

Once they were ready, Anju locked the front door of the inn. The Gorman Troupe had fled the town, fearing for their lives, and their lives were more important than their performances. Link was glad they had escaped the town, and hoped that wherever they were, they were safe, and that he would get to see their show one day. The Inn was empty, locked, and their party was ready to move out of the town. Link hoisted himself onto his horse and she stepped in place impatiently, her nostrils flaring as she tossed her head. “Are we ready to move out?”

“We’re ready,” Anju’s mother said, taking the reins of the wagon, while Anju herself remained silent.

They moved toward the gate, where the guard Link had met on his first day stood, looking up at the moon with a frown on his face. He looked toward them, “What’s your destination?”

“Romani Ranch. We’re taking refuge in case something happens here,” Anju’s mother said, pulling back on the reins and halting the horse before the gate. The guard looked up at her and nodded.

“I hope you’re safe out there, ma’am. Unfortunately, I have to remain at my post,” the guard said sadly, and he tapped the ground with the butt of his spear just as Link had seen him do before. The gate creaked and opened, leaving them free to leave the town, “May the Goddess of Time protect you.”

“May she protect you as well,” Anju finally said, nodding at the guard as she passed. Link passed the guard and stopped a moment, looking back at him before he spurred his horse on to catch up with the wagon. He wished he could ask the guard to come with them, but he knew that the man would refuse, because he was a good man. Too good a man.

They traveled for an hour or so before they reached the ranch’s front gates. Every time there was a tremor, the horses spooked, rearing or backing up until the shaking subsided, and it slowed their expedition considerably. Once they reached the gates, Link could see the lights of the farm house across a small field, a path twisting through trees and hills to stop at the front door. It reminded him of some place, somewhere he had long forgotten, the smells of horses and sweet grass flooding his senses. When they were about five minutes from the house, the front door opened and a pretty woman with sun-streaked red hair stepped out, waving to the wagon with both arms. Link suspected this was Cremia, Anju’s best friend, and the owner of the ranch. She looked so familiar...

He shook away the feeling and waved back.

Once they were inside, Cremia offered a glass of milk to everyone, pouring it from a jug into small jars, “This is our best milk,” she said, “This shipment was for the carnival, but I don’t think it’ll matter now.”

Link thanked her and took a sip. It was the greatest milk he had ever tasted, warming him from his hat to his boots and giving him so much energy he felt almost as if he could stop the moon himself. His smile faded when he noticed the small girl sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth with a dead look in her eyes. Cremia noticed his gaze and spoke, “That’s my sister Romani. I apologize for not introducing you, but she hasn’t been herself lately and begs me to leave her alone...” There was sadness in her voice as she spoke, and Link’s heart sank into his boots.

Link stood up from where he was sitting at the table and walked over to where Romani was sitting amongst a pile of straw, holding a scruffy little dog to her breast and stroking it, her eyes vacantly staring through him. “They came. They...”

He sat his bottle of milk down beside her silently as an offering, and then he moved back to the table with the others. He felt sick to his stomach.

Another tremor ripped through the house, sending the chandelier swinging and the bottles of milk toppling to smash upon the floor. It never seemed to end, and over the din he heard Cremia telling everyone to get outside. Link wasn’t sure if outside would be safer or worse, but he followed the women out the door, Cremia holding Romani and the dog in her arms.

Link felt his breath catch in his throat when he stepped through the door and into the field. Romani Ranch was high upon a hill, and they could see the clock town far below, the moon nearly touching the clock tower. The sky was an angry, searing red, the moon’s surface covered in licks of flame as it hurtled toward the earth in slow motion. The brightness forced the boy to squint, staring as the moon crushed the town beneath its body.

He felt Anju fall to her knees beside him, and then he felt a searing pain tearing across his chest, his hands, his face as the brightness overtook him.

And then he felt no more.

 

 

 

 

_You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?_


End file.
